


mass-market paperback

by patrexes



Series: Kinktober 2019 [15]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Cunnilingus, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Hair-pulling, Kinktober 2019, Multi, Spitroasting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-16 15:20:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21038354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patrexes/pseuds/patrexes
Summary: “Consider this reparations,” Ala Mhigan №8 spat, spilling down Maxima’s throat, and—not for the first time today—he wondered distantly why the newsstand erotica he’d become the unwilling star of had to be solow quality.





	mass-market paperback

**Author's Note:**

> if you hang enough lampshades on how low-effort the porn you wrote for an uninspiring prompt in the space of an hour is, it wraps back around to entertaining, right?
> 
> prompt: hair pulling

“Consider this reparations,” Ala Mhigan №8 spat, spilling down Maxima’s throat, and—not for the first time today—he wondered distantly why the newsstand erotica he’d become the unwilling star of had to be so _low quality_.

Every one of his assailants who bothered to speak to him at all, they all sounded like that. How long it had been, even how many had yet had him, all blurred together in a stream of _this is for Ala Mhigo, imperial scum!_ and _here’s a bit of that trademark Gyr Abanian hospitality for you_, the sort of thing one might find in a particularly distasteful political cartoon. And it wasn’t that Maxima was ungrateful his rapists lacked creativity—he had seen _creative_ torture before, knew what someone with enough fury and few enough scruples could do with hands alone—but sometime after the fourth cock down his throat, the one who’d taken a piss rather than fuck him, all of the fear and anger, all the feelings of violation had just… drained out of him. This was happening now, inescapable as the Emperor’s personal guard shooting their airship out of the sky, and some part of him had come to the forefront to shield the rest of his psyche.

That part of him wished that his rapists would at least put effort into breaking him. It was so impersonal, this stock dialogue, the rhythmic slap of skin against skin in a painful fuck of no particular note. If he was going to have nightmares about this for the rest of his life, they could be kind enough to have the barest originality.

And he was certainly going to have nightmares about this. These kids were furious—and rightfully so—at the Empire, lashing out at whomever they could overpower with a third eye, but they weren’t murderers. The only knife that had been leveled at Maxima, when they had first cornered him, had been tossed aside once they had him kneeling in the dirt, glasses shattered and clothes askew.

A shard of glass was embedded in his palm. Every thrust made by the teen taking his ass made him rock forward on his hands, and every thrust the shard was forced in deeper.

“Let me have a turn already, won’t you?” someone huffed, impatience the tone of schoolchildren fighting over a toy, and pushed forward past the boy whose cock Maxima had just sucked. A girl—young woman, rather, born like all of them after Ala Mhigo’s annexation but not _long_ after. She was already unbuttoning the fly of her trousers, shoving them halfway down her thighs, and then she was taking Maxima roughly by the hair and pulling his mouth to her unshaven cunt. “Eat me out,” she told him evenly, “and I won’t pull out your teeth.”

Well.

“I have pliers,” the girl warned. Maxima tongued at the lips of her cunt, and she jerked full-body against him, her free hand flying to his hair to keep herself steady. _“Oh!”_

Fantastic. His intrepid young rapist was a virgin. _At least_, that part of Maxima which was keeping him as near to functional as it could muster, _she has nothing to find this performance wanting in comparison to_.

Someone more experienced, he could have gotten off quickly—sucked at her clit until she was coming apart above him. But that would be too much for this girl, shivering at only the press of his tongue against her inner folds, and overstimulation turned quickly into _pain_—bad enough for the unexperienced even when they were unwilling to maim their sex partners.

The person fucking his ass pulled out, shifted to the side to finish himself over Maxima’s hair and neck as another took his place. “That’s disgusting,” his counterpart said, but clutched at Maxima’s hair all the same as he fucked into the raw hole. And to Maxima, “How’s it feel to be on the other side for once? I bet you’ve raped a lot of Ala Mhigan girls, huh.” The tone was almost conversational despite the viciousness of his thrusts, the way he and the girl taking his mouth fought for control over him, both tearing at his hair like a leash.

Maxima couldn’t respond, his mouth full—licking up into the girl’s wet cunt, his nose buried in her mons and lip scraping against the hood of her clit, and she was rocking into it, pulling him closer, deeper—but talk like that never wanted response. He dug his fingers into the dirt, forcing the shard of glass deeper into his palm, and distanced himself yet further.


End file.
